


I would choose you

by amithia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Modern with a little magic, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amithia/pseuds/amithia
Summary: Merlin is an artist who can paint your soulmate.Arthur doesn't believe in soulmates.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 284
Collections: Tropes every fandom should have a fic for!





	I would choose you

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little thing I wrote. I had this idea a while ago and thought I could write a long-ass story about it. Turns out I don't have enough juice for that and this just seemed like a perfect solution.
> 
> Hope you like it <3
> 
> Last, but not least, a big thank you to my lightening-fast beta [ Ceewelsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceewelsh), who's the only reason I'm able to post now :D

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

There are almost eight billion people in the world; why should anyone cling onto a single person?

Arthur loves his friends. And he loves his family, however difficult they prove to be sometimes. He doesn’t need anyone to complete him. That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone believe in that?

Turns out, most people believe in that.

His friends definitely do. They are having lunch in the uni canteen when Gwen introduces a boy from her class, Merlin - an art student who, among other things, commissions paintings of people’s soulmates. Obviously, Arthur calls him a scammer, getting only an indifferent shrug in response.

Arthur knows about magic. He’s heard of people who can quite accurately predict the future, or heal physical and mental ailments (at least to a degree). He knows there are various kinds of magic. He knows Morgana has some.

He also knows there’s a limit to everything.

And Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

There’s something about Merlin, though, that Arthur can’t put his finger on. So he lets Merlin hang out with them, hoping he will figure the weirdo out.

Arthur laughs when Gwen presents them with a painting of what’s presumably her soulmate. Gwen only flips him off, uncaring whether Arthur believes it or not. To his dismay, the rest of his friends seem genuinely intrigued, asking Merlin for more details.

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

But four months have passed since, and then Gwen introduces the man from Merlin’s painting. His name is Lancelot.

It’s like a dam breaks and everybody starts asking Merlin to paint their soulmate. Arthur wants to be angry at Merlin for brainwashing his friends like that, but he’s come to like the guy too much to resent him.

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he believes Merlin would never do anything to hurt anyone.

Leon is the second one to receive a painting from Merlin, blood draining from his face when he sees it for the first time.

“I can’t believe this,” he says incredulously and turns the painting over to show everyone. Arthur nearly swallows his tongue when the familiar face of his sister stares at him.

“Well, now we know it’s a load of crap,” Arthur snickers, sinking back into his seat.

“Except it’s not,” Leon disagrees, red to the tips of his ears when all the blood comes rushing back to his face.

“You don’t want Morgana to be your soulmate, Leon.”

“I do, actually,” Leon smiles sheepishly. “I’m kind of in love with her.”

As surprising as the revelation of Leon’s feelings is, Arthur doesn’t expect anything to come out of it. Morgana doesn’t date. And even if she did, it wouldn’t be one of Arthur’s friends.

Arthur nearly has an aneurysm when he comes to his father's house two weeks later, the image of his sister and his friend snogging on the sofa forever branded into his brain.

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

He also laughs his ass off when Percy brings his painting next, only to reveal a detailed portrait of Elyan.

“Oh, my God, this is gold.” Arthur wipes tears out of his eyes, laughing even harder when he registers Elyan’s dumbstruck expression.

“It’s not that funny,” Percy grumbles petulantly.

“What’s not funny about this?”

Percy hesitates, glancing at Elyan from the corner of his eye. “We’ve been kinda secretly dating for a few months now.”

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

It’s simple; he likes the freedom of choice. He can choose who he wants to be with. He can choose who he wants to love.

And anyway, he’s twenty-three years old. Why should he limit himself to one person when he’s at the peak of his life? He’s supposed to be thriving, enjoying himself as much as he can, no regrets, and no strings attached.

So what if he feels hollow every time he’s with someone he picked up at a bar, or at the gym? At least he knows how to have fun.

It sounds less convincing the more he tries to make himself believe it.

***

“You never talk about your soulmate,” Arthur points out the next time Merlin comes over to his place to watch The Great British Bake Off. He feels more than sees Merlin tense beside him.

“It’s private.”

“Uh-huh.” Arthur takes a sip of his beer. “Have you met them yet?”

Merlin sighs defeatedly. “No,” he says, barely audible.

Arthur tries to ignore the pang in his chest at the confirmation that Merlin knows who his soulmate is and hasn’t met them yet.

“I’m sorry.”

Merlin gives a hollow laugh. “Why? You don’t even believe in soulmates.”

No, he doesn’t.

But Merlin does and that’s all that matters.

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

But when he watches his friends being happy with their loved ones, he wishes he did.

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

But that doesn’t mean there isn't one for him.

It’s not like he has anything to lose. It’s not like he has to believe anything Merlin says - or paints. If he doesn’t like the outcome, he can just ignore it, right? Plus, nobody needs to know he finally gave in and let Merlin work his magic on him. Arthur knows that if he asks, Merlin will keep his mouth shut. He’s a loyal friend, a good friend.

He’s the best friend Arthur’s ever had.

Merlin outstretches his hands, palms up. Arthur swallows down his dignity, and with a fierce flush he slides his hands into Merlin’s.

Merlin’s eyes flutter shut and the air around him cracks, charged with his magic. He snaps his eyes open, and Arthur’s breath hitches when they flash gold. He forgets to breathe all together as he waits for Merlin to do... something. Anything. Whatever it is he does after.

His heart skips a beat when Merlin’s brows furrow, as though whatever he just saw displeases him.

“Please, tell me it’s not one of my exes,” Arthur jokes, desperate to cut through the tension. Merlin’s frown only deepens, then his gaze locks with Arthur’s, and Arthur sees his eyes soften before they grow sad.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” he says raspily, as if he’s the one to receive whatever bad news are coming.

Arthur laughs hollowly. “Don’t tell me it’s Gwaine.” He makes to break the connection and pull his hands away, but Merlin only grips him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, even sadder. “I don’t see anything.”

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

But he drinks himself under the table that night.

***

Arthur’s woken up the next morning by relentless knocking on the door.

“Don’t you know how to pick up your phone?” is the first thing out of Merlin’s mouth, frustration evident in his voice. He stops in his tracks as he takes in Arthur’s disheveled appearance. Arthur’s probably looked better. “Oh, Arthur.”

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t want Merlin’s pity. He doesn’t want anything from him at all.

He still lets Merlin wipe the sweat off his forehead after he finishes getting sick into the toilet, then allows Merlin to hold him as they settle heavily on the sofa and watch silly morning cartoons.

***

“Maybe there’s another reason, Arthur,” Merlin says two days later.

“Other than that I don’t have one?” Arthur replies bitterly.

“I might have gotten it wrong. Maybe my magic was just misbehaving.”

“Has it happened before?”

Merlin doesn’t meet his eyes. “No.”

***

Arthur doesn’t believe in soulmates.

It’s a good thing too, since he apparently doesn’t have one.

Just one more reason for him to enjoy company of random people as often as he wants, no guilt.

The hole inside his chest gets bigger with each person he brings home.

***

Arthur doesn’t remember when he put Merlin as his emergency contact. So he’s just as surprised as him when Merlin picks him up from the pub, having received a call from the pub manager after Arthur had gotten into a shouting match with some random guy, then promptly passed out before either of them could land a blow.

Merlin isn’t impressed as he leads woobly Arthur to his car, giving him a silent treatment until they reach Arthur’s flat.

He takes Arthur’s shoes off, then his socks, followed by his jeans and his sweat-drenched t-shirt.

He leads Arthur to the bedroom and lays him on the bed on his side.

“You’re an idiot,” he grumbles, sounding both annoyed and fond, and brushes Arthur’s fringe away from his eyes.

“’s prolly why I don’t have anyone.”

Merlin slides his fingers through Arthur’s hair, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You have me. Always.”

Arthur huffs into the pillow. “Only until you meet your one and only.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Arthur peers at him tiredly, his interest piqued. “Huh?”

“I don’t have a soulmate, Arthur,” Merlin says resignedly.

The room spins and Arthur’s not sure it’s from the alcohol.

“But you said-”

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupts, “go to sleep.”

Merlin starts pulling his hand away, and Arthur catches it. “Stay.”

“Arthur-”

“Stay with me,” he begs. “I just... I don’t want to be alone.”

Merlin takes a few breaths, biting his lip as he makes his decision. “Okay.”

Arthur burrows his face in Merlin’s chest and lets the steady rhythm of his heart lull him to sleep.

***

Arthur remembers everything, despite having been drunk out of his ass.

Merlin makes him promise to stop drinking.

Arthur doesn’t think twice about that.

He’s completely sober when, a week later, Merlin ends up in his bed again. Naked this time, just as Arthur.

Arthur remembers every kiss, every touch of Merlin’s hands on his body. He remembers the taste of Merlin’s skin and how he whispered Arthur’s name like a prayer.

When Arthur wakes up in the morning, the hole in his chest feels somehow smaller.

***

Merlin spends nearly every night in Arthur’s bed after that. Sometimes with clothes, sometimes without.

They watch cartoons on days they don’t have lectures, and cook breakfast together. Well, Merlin cooks, and Arthur watches, banned from his own kitchen after he nearly set fire to the place when trying to boil water for their coffee.

The hole inside Arthur shrinks with every smile Merlin sends his way.

***

“I went to see my uncle today,” Merlin says one night, the words muffled where he’s pressing his lips into Arthur’s hair.

“Hm?”

“My uncle, Gaius. He’s sort of an expert on magic,” he continues. “I told him about us.”

“Okay?” Arthur returns, refusing to open his eyes unless it’s for a good reason.

“He thinks we might be soulmates.”

Arthur’s eyes shoot open. “What?”

“When I first told him, years ago, that I couldn’t see my soulmate, he said it didn’t necessarily mean I don’t have one. That I might not be able to see them because it’s impossible for me to look at myself objectively. And that my magic might be concealing stuff from me.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t see my soulmate either,” Arthur reasons.

“That’s it, though,” Merlin counters. “Gaius suggested that, um, you know. In case I _am_ your soulmate, I can’t see it because... well... because it’s impossible to see myself.”

Arthur ponders the thought carefully. Could Merlin, and his uncle, be right?

“I don’t believe in soulmates,” Arthur replies after a while.

“Arthur,” Merlin whimpers, gripping Arthur a little tighter.

Arthur turns his head, propping his chin on Merlin’s chest. “I don’t believe in soulmates,” he repeats. “And I don’t care about them, either.” He lifts his hand and runs his fingertips over Merlin’s sharp cheekbone, the bridge of his nose and his soft lips. He rises onto his elbows and replaces his fingers with his mouth. “I know what I want,” he whispers against Merlin’s lips. “Because I have it right here.”

Merlin lets out a choked sound and wraps Arthur in his arms, hugging him to his chest so tight Arthur doesn’t know where one ends and the other begins.

“Stay with me,” Arthur begs one more time.

“Always.”


End file.
